


Metamorphosis

by Whatstheirname



Category: Shrek
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2018-09-14 19:44:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9199754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whatstheirname/pseuds/Whatstheirname
Summary: A young adult named Violet wakes up in a cold and unsafe world. Her friends that she used to know are in a raging war against Rumpelstiltskin. In the past, she was a great, and shy, sorceress. Now, she has very limited magic that she must use in order to survive in this alternative dimension.





	1. Prologue

A young woman woke up in a choke, she found herself sprawled across a prison cell floor. The walls and floor gave off a musky stench and various smells she could not identify. The metal bars, which yielded her from escaping, were rusting with age. With the environment being cold and harsh, an unwanted feeling was what she received, she breathed a hot breath of air, watching it slither from her lips. Regarding her cage, her eyes drew her attention to a glowing amulet around her neck. Her hand clutched the jewelry and she speculated its rich blue colors. The gemstone was a beautiful lapis lazuli. 

 

In her disarray, she scrambled to her feet, and dusted herself off. The young girl wore a black tunic with blue outlines that fell over her knees, a long black cape that draped over her shoulders, and matching riding boots. She pushed back her long white hair to the other side, in order to understand how exactly she has gotten there. 

 

All she remembered was when she attempted to calm her ogre friend named Shrek after an argument with his wife. However, it was to no avail. Shrek mainly ignored her up to the point where he literally walked away. To him, his friend was merely another voice of reason that refused to see his point of view. The young woman huffed in frustration before storming off into the forest, the opposite direction from Shrek. Sooner than she expected, little droplets of rain fell onto her face, she heard the sound of thunder, a flash of lightening, and then she was soaked to the bone. Suddenly, an eerie chill washed over her, and she sensed a terrible tremble surrounding her. The world around her spun in circles until she fell into a world of darkness. 

 

“Ow,” she shuddered. She rubbed her sore temple gingerly from attempting to recall any other memories that could be a clue to that event. Just as the young woman controlled herself, a door creaked opened up, shedding in some golden light, and a silhouette of a short man stepped into her view. As his visage came into view, she saw gleaming emerald eyes, fiery short hair, a dwarf in an attire of white frills and curly shoes. He wore a wry smile, as if expecting the unexpected.

 

“I take it that you slept well?” the stranger smirked. He detected her displeasure with the surprise look in her eyes. To him, he found her adorable, as the girl grasped the iron bars, sending nothing but daggers in his direction. 

 

“Stiltskin,” She sneered.

 

“It’s Rumpelstiltskin, girl, learn your manners.” He scoffed.

 

“Where’s Shrek?!” she seethed, shaking the bars with tremendous force.

 

Rumpel frowned, and tossed his hand into the air implying he did not give a damn about the imprisoned girl. “You sure are impatient. No matter, I will escort you to your new home. Oh, but be in mind that you will be sharing it with somebody else.” The devious dwarf gave her a twisted smile, as he whisked out a ring of keys, and nonchalantly picked his preferred key before he inserted it into the lock of her cage, the growing rage inside the woman’s eyes flared in response.

 

“You think that I would go anywhere with you? Well, you got another thing coming.” She simmered. The woman threw out her hand with her head held high, chanted a powerful hex to transform him into a toad or worse, she did not care as long she did not have to deal with him in the future, but when she realized that the magic from within has not made an appearance, her confidence withdrew at once. Even he waited for her to realize how useless she actually was. 

 

When a cold splash of reality hit her like a ton of bricks, she recoiled at once in shock and dismay. Her magical powers were not even present, she stumbled aback and her hands trembling, whereas the door hung wide with Rumpel standing at the foot of the other door. 

 

“Hehe looks like you’re at a loss, my dear Violet.” The emerald eyed one giggled. He beckoned her in following him, Violet, now ashamed, fell in line with the shorter man, as they left where everything began behind. She treaded a slower pace than his, but he did not regard her in the slightest, when the distance between them became erratic, all Violet saw were her feet bearing her weight and traversing through the corridors. 

 

The twosome crossed many hallways and a few flight of stairs. Alas to her boredom, Violet diverted her attention to the details on the walls. She took notice of the garish gold, blinding white, and ruby red interior decoration, which brought her thinking whether if the exterior of the castle shared the same gaudy design as of the inside. Whatever the case, all she ever wanted was to escape this hell-hole before her window of opportunity closed on her, and so, she stuck her tongue out at the ostentatious décor. Accompanying the walls were many layouts of paintings that hung in their golden frames, most to all of them, consisted of him in absurd costumes that Violet has ever laid her eyes upon, a selective group of witches, and a very large goose with a pink bow tightly around her neck. Little did she know was that her trip down the hall was cut short, as she nearly tumbled over the white stump with curly shoes. 

 

“Here we are,” exclaimed Rumpel while jumping with his hands in the air, exaggerating on the arrival to her new confinement was indeed brilliantly fun. Violet gazed at her door with awe, for once, she actually admired its beautiful blue frame, and golden door knob. “Oh,” she snapped her focus out of daze and stared at Rumpel with his wry smile. “Your roommate won’t be returning until tonight. Farewell,” he twirled on his curly shoes, and performed an unnecessary bow, and he swiftly trotted away, thus leaving her alone. 

 

Violet closed her eyes, releasing a pent up sigh, and reopened her lids, while reaching out for that golden handle. When she yanked it wide, she met an imposing bedroom with shades of the depths of the ocean, black streaks of the night across the walls and silver stars that were shaped like a spiral on the ceiling. A pair of twin beds on either side of the walls with red velvet sheets, and satin pillows, across from her was a small subtle fireplace, and a small table with chairs in the center. Violet blinked at this ludicrous sight before her, and resisted gagging. She found it odd to have a luscious suite rather than a stereotypical prison cell like all stereotypical prisoners usually have. Of course, she was not complaining, it did give off a creepy setting.

 

The young woman flopped onto the nearest bed to await her roommate to be, though she was only to herself for a mere fifteen minutes, when she shot out of bed and threw the curtains aside. This revealed an astounding view of a colorful pastel sky; blood orange hue mixed with crimson red, with the sun dipping back and behind the horizon for a good night’s slumber. She saw pearly white stars peeking through the blankets of the heavens, and so she realized that she only had a few hours’ left until then. “Some exploring wouldn’t hurt anybody,” she said with an impish grin, and rubbing her hands together.

 

Alas, the curiosity that once motivated Violet’s eager mind, drained instantaneously after exploring about hundreds of vacant rooms; none of which met to her expectations. There were no secret treasures or anything out of the ordinary; however there have been numerous occurrence of bleached sheets over aged furniture. Each one shared the same spooky setting than the last, and to be frank, it frightened Violet. It was as if there were invisible eyes spying on her, as she peered into one. Another time there have been an event where a cold breeze emerged without open windows, and that she frequently recalled a chilling hand caressing her cheek whenever she lingered for too long.  
‘If this empire was full of witches, a scary goose, and a psychotic king, how can there be so much space? There could be about a dozen occupants to fill in the void, but no, it’s as if Rumpelstiltskin is hosting a castle full of ghosts.’ She pondered. After crossing yet another hallway, it finally dawned on Violet that with sudden stupidity she has gotten herself hopelessly lost. 

 

“Awe, damn it,” she groaned, while face-palming herself. “Alright I have to develop a better plan to get out of this labyrinth.” She sighed, and treaded onwards. 

 

Somehow, she perceived an idiosyncratic pulling from an intersection not too far from where she stood. Ghost-like hands tugged and tugged onto her consciousness through the castle until she was finally led to a door that was emitting a melancholy vibe. Violet snapped out of her trance and swallowed nervously, as the inscriptions on the exterior resembled daunting and strange. They resembled ancient symbols, where one could find in a book of magic, or etched into a large stone. With a sense of foreboding, she heaved the door wide and stepping into the threshold. 

 

“Why hast thou come?” growled a low voice in the midst of the darkness. Inside, Violet squinted her eyes to adjust to the dim-lit chamber, there she almost tripped over shackles and metal chains that linked to the wall. Upon chains upon chains, all of which were strewn over the walls, her eyes fell onto a stooping figure with their legs in a crisscross position in the center. 

Again, however, the voice thundered, startling poor Violet in her spot. “Tell me why thou hast come!”

 

“Um,” Violet stammered, she watched the stooping figure stumbling to their feet, she got a better view of them. It was a dejected looking old man, with white hair and a long white beard that cascaded over his front. He wore a blue and yellow gown, that came down to his knees, and upon his weary visage he wore a slightly shattered spectacle. Violet knew those characteristics are too well, as she stared into the eyes of Merlin himself. The look on his face was at its boiling point, though Violet did not understand. Was her own presence upsetting him, where, exactly, does he stand in this turmoil?

 

Merlin scoffed at her dumfounded look. “It appears as though, thee perhaps, has taken a gander at my wretched state for a laugh? Go on, thou can laugh, make the heavens hear thy voice roar.” Violet stood in complete shock, and couldn’t utter a word. “Thou hungry? Here,” Merlin scooped a pile of rubbish from the floor and thrust it out for her to see. “Here, have some rocks, THEY’RE ORGANIC!” He shrieked. She shook her head, therefore, resulting his lips to curl into a nasty sneer. “Why hast thou come, I ask, why, if not then leave me be!”

 

All of the sudden, that exact same force took her by the shoulders and shoved her into a wall. Violet ricocheted from the blow, and resisted the urge to scream. Her body slid towards the door and before she reacted, Violet was literally thrown out the door with a slam. Her body hit the cold marble ground hard, thus, her letting out a cry. 

 

“Ow,” she groaned until she noticed a pair of dark boots standing inches from her face. Her eyes traveled up to a tall man clad in shadows, he wielded a long and silvery flute, and in his eyes   
held deep disapproval. Violet gasped and jumped to her feet. The instant they made eye contact, a chill ran down her spine as she observed his somber blue eyes. The man had short dark brown hair with alabaster skin lining his long face. Atop of his head, he wore a dark bounty hat with a queer long red feather. After a moment of silence, he was the first to speak. Violet was expecting a tone of criticism like implicating a child for being mischievous. Instead, he set his lips onto his instrument, and a wistful of musical notes resonated the corridors. 

 

“This room is forbidden; you’re not allowed around this part of the castle.” His flute sounded. She blinked at the phenomenal standing right before her eyes. Never has she ever encountered a person to replace their voice with an instrument, for her, the idea was intriguing. The sound of his foot tapping snapped Violet out of her daze, her first impression was already dwindling at that point.

 

“Are you here to pick me up?” She queried, immediately she rescinded her actions, as she heard her words left her mouth and hung into the air to. She did not mean to sound cocky, her train of thought still was reeling since her encounter with a delirious Merlin. 

 

To her relief, the man did not care for her disrespect, but he did find her demeanor to be strange and mystifying. He studied her characteristics in silence. She had the most peculiar set of deep violet eyes, and unnatural pale skin. The two most interesting traits were her hair and the unique piece of jewelry that hung around her neck. Her hair, to be frank, was not part of this era since it was similar to snow and only half of her head was covered by it. Next his attention seemingly was unable to withdraw from the blue stone, in which held a significance power inside.

 

“My name is Willmar; I am known as the Pied Piper.” He declared, however she detected the same kind of sadness from his eyes matching well with the sound of his name. Both cases having to share a heavy burden that he was not willing to reveal to her any time soon. It was her cue to introduce herself next, she frantically pulled herself together before relaxing her body.

 

“I’m Violet Reilly; no special title,” she replied. He gave her a curt nod, and said nothing more from his flute. He swiftly turned on his heels, therefore, suggesting her to do the same and headed onwards to their destination. At first, there was only silence that separated them until he listened for her footsteps following in pursuit. The purple eyed girl swept across the floor, all the while glancing ahead at her new companion as he glided with elegance, though he mainly just wanted to get to bed for he came back from a mission, and he was yearning for a goodnight sleep. She understood his intentions clearly, though she sensed a few barriers that he carried with him, some were readable and understandable, while the rest were unstable and undeciphered. During her deep thoughts, Violet knew that his name weighed a lot of emotional pain, perhaps he could go by a nickname instead, even though her idea for a new one still had some anguish lingering in it

 

Having the atmosphere so heavy, Violet held her head high and fell in his pace, however due to her shortness, her strutting was especially awkward. Perhaps it was her imagination, but Violet swore she saw a smirk on his face yet he recovered it quickly with his usual blank expression. At last, they made it to the door with the blue frame and golden doorknob. To her surprise, they came here in such a haste that she probably assumed that he knew his way around the castle. The man with somber blue eyes held the door for her to pass through, and she stepped back into the suite. 

 

As the twosome adapted to each other’s company rather quickly, Violet paused near Willmar, as he assorted through a knapsack, which sat on his bed. She peered slightly over his shoulder to see a collection of flutes; most of them carved from wood, while others were made out of metal. Willmar acknowledged her and allowed her continuing to gaze upon them. This was her chance to mention her idea to him.

 

“Willmar,” she mused softly, he turned his attention fully on her, casting a look of utter curiosity. “I like Piper better. It gives more of an eccentric appeal than your authentic name.” she smiled, but recoiled at once when he pondered on the concept, meanwhile, he looked back at her. He shrugged despite the differences, and as if he was agreeing with her. Willmar placed his lips to his main flute.

 

“Call me whatever you want,” 

 

Violet nodded and gave him a grin. “Alright, and you may call me Violet!” To her amazement, he flashed her a small smile before it disappeared as quickly as it came. Maybe this was the moment that their friendship was blossoming, and that gave Violet the reason to beam with excitement. She began parading in the direction of her bed, when a thought hit her. “Oh,” she swerved on her heels and faced him. “Welcome back,” with a smile, she left him as she snuggled deep into bed. Her exhausted eyelids were closing, as her head hit the satin pillows. Strange, though, the dark side does offer luxury but alas no cookies. She could deal with that later.

 

It has been a month since Violet has grown accustomed to her new world, therefore, she has been learning about life outside the castle walls, little by little, with the help from Piper whenever he headed out on a mission. She also heard about a resistance that the witches have been desperately trying to find, but failure was always in their future. When Piper told her about it, Violet demanded who resided in the resistance, but after explaining that the remaining ones that he mentioned were her friends, he got a clear grasp why she was in need of such information. However, Shrek’s whereabouts was still unknown, and those who knew of him were on edge. Even Rumpelstiltskin nearly killed a few witches, when they kept asking if he was doing alright. 

 

Over the course of her purpose in existing on the side of being a villain, Violet gained an ability that would help her and Piper in getting through the madness that Rumpelstiltskin has offered. She has the talent to heal her companion’s injuries from the abuse that Rumpelstiltskin and his witches inflicted upon. 

 

One day, as Violet attended a large gash in Piper’s shoulder, a shudder washed through her body, upon noticing his friend pausing, he asked whether she was alright or not. She simply shook him off and merely said that she has gotten a bit chilly. But an occurring thought erupted her mind, therefore, she knew exactly what it meant. That chill was a sign that she has been waiting for so long; Shrek has finally made an appearance.


	2. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Violet has adapted to her new home, she has questions that needs to be answered. But everyone around her brushes her off, At least Piper communicates with her, perhaps for a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this time jump. There will be a lot. When I was working on these chapters, I was writing them backwards from chapter 8, 7, 6, etc..

One day, Violet woke up to the golden rays of the sun peeking just slightly through the dark blue curtains. She opened one eye, slowly, dragging her body, she sat glumly in bed. She rubbed the drowsiness and looked around, getting the sense that she was no longer part of her world full of warmth and a feeling of welcome. Across from her, she noticed that her roommate has left, his bed made, and no trace of him left behind. Violet frowned slightly, as she crawled out of her cozy nest of blankets, and headed for the bathroom.

 

“I guess work is more important than friendship,” she sighed, opening the door that revealed a rather large bathroom. There, in the center of the room, sat a grand bathtub, big enough to fit a king! It had a base of white marble, and gold brimming, even the faucets were gold. Also, there was a shower in a corner with glass walls, and marble stone floorings; lining the walls were beautiful sinks, white marble as well, with matching mirrors. “Damn, it’s no wonder Rumpel has great hospitality towards his guests.” Violet commented with dripping sarcasm. 

 

After she has done her preparations, she set out just as her stomach growled. ‘First, let’s find the kitchen because I’m starving!’ she nodded. A fragment from last night flashed before her eyes, and she remembered that unfaithful door, revealing that unfaithful man, and how she felt towards him, causing her to shudder in horror. What purpose did Merlin served here, now that she thought about it? However, while being consumed in her own thoughts, her face collided with an oncoming opening door. 

 

Violet did a double take, and found herself staring at a pair of dark, blue eyes. The color of the deepest depths of the ocean, she noted. “Oh, Piper,” she muttered, rubbing her sore forehead. He panicked at that little mark on her head, and sought for his flute that were on his legs. But Violet was quicker, therefore she waved her hands dismissively, claiming that she was alright. Nonetheless, Piper pieced together his flute, before wetting his lips, and played.

 

“Don’t tell me you’re wandering around again.” He chided. She shrugged. He was half-right. Her stomach gurgled again, and patted it slightly, signaling him what exactly what that meant. “The kitchen is down the hall and two doors to the left.” He nodded.

 

“Ah, thanks,” she passed him, while thinking out loud. “After that I must seek Rumpelstiltskin and demand answers.” The Piper kicked the door shut and side-stepped in front of her, halting her momentarily. “Did I say that out loud?” she asked, mainly to herself, as her face tinged pink. 

 

“I can escort you to him after breakfast,” he ignored her little slip, “but you would need to wait because that’s when he has his morning bath.” He offered, though he regarded her ill expression greatly, yet he empathized with her, as he recalled one morning he heard the witches sending Mr. Stiltskin secret codes, and vice versa. The twosome both shuddered at the mere thought. 

 

“Right, well, lead the way,” she grimaced, desperately trying to get that kind of picture out of her head. Violet followed the Piper, though smirking to herself regarding of his tale, but kept it a secret so that would not upset him. The duo marched to the kitchen, yet the moment she stepped through the threshold, she was thrust into another repressed memory. That particular scent went way back to the age of five, where little Violet stared in awe as her mother cooked something nice within a large black cauldron. She has forgotten what her mother’s words were, but after tasting the dish, it brought some tears to her eyes, as Violet stood at the door. 

 

Piper watched her with curiosity. A few questions popped in his head, but he knew that it would be rude to just ask her straight up. So, he took a seat at the table, waiting for her head to come back to earth. When she did, he already grabbed an apple from a fruit bowl, breaking the red skin with his teeth, he munched in silence. 

 

Violet smeared away her tears, when she realized that they already cascaded down her cheeks. She smiled sheepishly, and hurried to the counters, figuring what was there to eat. She could whip something up, but it has been awhile since she last touched a kitchen utensil. So instead, she went old-school. Finally, she sat in her place at the table with a bowl of cornflakes with cool, fresh milk. Violet was surprised to even notice a box of cornflakes in the food storage. 

 

He smiled at her, a smile worth saying, ‘welcome back’ but she might have taken it a different way. After she slurped her last droplets of milk, she wiped herself clean and saw the fruit bowl. It was that moment then that the Piper saw her acting strangely with her hand outstretched, and her eyes staring intently at a banana. He didn’t understand the concept, maybe she wanted the fruit, perhaps, and picked it up before handing it to her. What he didn’t expect was the look of downcast, she took it and placed it on the table. 

 

“Figures,” she sighed. “Knowing that I am utterly powerless, I can’t even levitate a piece of fruit.” She threw her hands into the air in a dramatic act. The words ‘powerless’ and ‘levitate’ perked Piper’s ears. He cleaned his mouth thoroughly before setting his flute to his lips.

 

“The reason you can’t perform such tasks like that is because of Rumpelstiltskin’s witches, for they have cast a barrier around the castle, encasing it for whoever wishes to use magic, cannot. Unless you have the authorities to do such things are the people that stand with him will grant you permission.” The Piper informed. He observed her reactions, as she abruptly stood. 

 

“That devious little snit!” Violet spat. “It’s no wonder that I couldn’t perform that hex.” She grumbled deeply to herself, nibbling on her thumbnail to the point it almost bled. Sensing her caution, he gathered his courage and calmly asked.

 

“May I ask, what are you?”

 

Violet stopped destroying her thumb and looked at him slowly. She released a sigh, and sat back down, attempting to soothe her anger. “I’m a sorceress, but…” she couldn’t finish her sentence because she figured that if he found out about her origins, he probably would treat her differently. 

 

“But?” he pressed on. 

 

“Nothing, just a sorceress,” she shook her head, refusing to let any other information to slip. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously for a moment, hoping to crack open that thick shell of hers to open slightly. However, he trusted her words, for now, he stood up. Violet followed his lead, and they both left the kitchen in silence. 

 

They arrived at the door with a ridiculously large R emblazoning outside of Rumpel’s room. It was a little imitating to look at, but Violet felt her legs turning into jelly, and that her mind was blanking out on her. The things that she wanted to ask him, suddenly vanished, and were nowhere to be seen. She reached out for a knock, but her arm didn’t move. She then heard Piper sighing, as he knocked instead. He gave a look of assurance for her. 

 

“I have to get going, see you tonight, that is if you’re still awake.” He nodded, and lightly patted her shoulder before he left for his job. However, Piper was unaware of Violet reaching out for him in silence. She did not want to face Rumpelstiltskin on her own, especially after his ‘morning bath’. Still, she mustered up her courage and knocked hastily in hopes that she didn’t had to loiter around any longer. 

 

The door opened, revealing a witch, whose features were quite ghastly and that her warts weren’t much of help to her appeal. She wore a purple robe that covered mostly of her body, though, she was clutching the opening to her bare chest, desperately hiding herself. Violet received the message instantly, feeling grossed out, she managed to speak out. “Is Rumpelstiltskin available?” She gulped, straining her attention away from the witch’s haughtily body. The witch sneered, and abruptly shut the door in her face. “Rude much?”

 

The door reopened, instead, someone’s else voice rang out. “Come in,” that belonged rightly to Rumpel’s, and so she held in her breath and treaded inside. 

 

That night, Violet plopped onto her bed, having nothing to do during the day, Violet drawled out a long and dramatic groan. “I’m sooooo bored,” she sighed. As if on cue, the door opened exposing the Piper, as he walked in. He saw her lounging about, and rolled his eyes. He set knapsack onto the floor, and began to unpack. Violet immediately sat up, thinking long and hard on what she really wanted to know from him. So, she headed over to him, unable to wait.

 

“Hey,” she started, Piper lifted his gaze and nodded, acknowledging her existence. “Um, I have a favor to ask of you.” He stopped for a few seconds, and actually looked at her. “What is out there, like, what is happening outside the castle walls?” She stared intently at him, yearning for such information, that if he answered, she might not hold herself for any longer. 

 

Piper glanced to the window, the lucent moon was high at this point, before looking back at her. He pieced together his flute. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait until tomorrow?” he asked, knowing that sleep might not be with him yet. 

 

“If I wait, you would be gone and the same process would just repeat.” She put out bluntly, tossing her hand dismissively. Violet saw him sigh, and a moment of glee pressured inside her. 

 

“Fine, but you will have to wait, I would need to write some things down. I doubt you would like to listen to my flute all night, huh?” Piper grunted, as he pulled himself off his bedside and walked to the little table and sat down. 

 

After a while, just like he promised, there were a set of note cards waiting to be read. Violet took a seat just as Piper began to start. “As you may already know, there is a war outside; a war between Rumpelstiltskin and the resistance…”

 

“The resistance?!” Violet gasped, irking Piper to stop and glare at her. She smiled sheepishly, and shut her mouth, ushering him to continue. 

 

“It used to be called the ‘ogre resistance’, however since they have been recruiting non-fairytale beasts, it’s now called what it is today.” He informed, when he shuffled some papers that had names scripted on them. “Residing in the resistance are none other than the ogres,” Violet paused and thought about Shrek, wondering if he will be joining them. “Cookie,” he pointed to the name on the table, “She is the resistance’s chief. This, here, is Brogan, he is the next in command, and the leader…” 

 

Violet was too busy connecting the dots in her head, yet she was unknown that there were more ogres like Fiona and Shrek. She did not wait for him to finish his sentence, as she uttered the name, “Fiona,” Piper paused, and stared in surprise. His eyes were questioning her of how she knew about the ogress name. “I… used to know her,” she said slowly. He nodded nonchalantly, and continued. 

 

“There is a group of women that also lives with them. They are known as the Sirens. Their names are Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, and Cinderella.” He pointed to the word, ‘the Sirens’ and underneath it was a tree of three names. Violet took a moment to study the them, after a few minutes, she looked back up.

 

“What about Rapunzel?” she gulped, afraid of the results. Piper lowered his flute and stared blankly at the table of names. The ambience between them was beginning to suffocate Violet’s breathing. Eventually, he answered her.

 

“She… died in the war,” Violet gaped at him, not expecting that kind of response. Though, inside she was relieved that she didn’t need to face her if they ever had the chance. But she did take notice of his solemn tone, as if indicating that they had some history between them. “I didn’t take her life, no, somebody else did. But that was a long time ago.”

 

She took a brief look at him, thinking whether she should say something in return or not. “Did you guys, had a thing for each other?” she asked cautiously. Violet knew that she might be stepping over a line here, but she couldn’t stop herself from speaking her mind. 

 

He responded rather quickly, as if hiding the truth. “We were friends, that was all.” The silence was broken, when he said that this was all she’ll know, for now. 

 

“Wait, there has to be more than just them, please, you’re not telling me everything!” She begged. 

 

“You’ll hear about them later, besides, it’s getting late.” Violet huffed, and crossed her arms, as he got up from his seat and settled into his bed for the night. “By the way,” she listened, 

 

“What did you talk about with Rumpelstiltskin?” he wondered. Violet let loose of her anger, her hands falling to her sides, and she looked away. 

 

“I’ll tell you later, in the morning maybe.” She sighed, and snuggled deep in bed. Her thoughts raced back to the conversation she had with the king, the information he told her was pretty shocking, to her at least. He has told her bluntly that she could only use two abilities, one of them was the power to heal, and the other, well, he hinted that she would find out about that later. So, all in all, she was completely stripped of her original magic. Violet sniffed a sob away, as she buried her face in her pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for so much unnecessary details. I'm still experiencing with working on character perspectives.


	3. A Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violet has a dark secret. She, unknowingly, has a split personality.

It was late at night, Violet apologized, deeply, numerous times that she nearly killed Piper. Half an hour ago, she woke up with her hands all red, as if they were writhing something soft, and by stealing a glance at him, she noticed the blotchy redness around his neck. He rubbed his neck gingerly, but the expression in his eyes freaked her out the most. The look of terror.

She couldn’t recall any details while she was asleep. It was as if she was being possessed by some dark entity, but Piper assured her that her eyes weren’t rolled up in her skull, or that she didn’t mutter anything. However, Violet stared him square in the eyes. He wasn’t telling her everything. Piper was either good at hiding his emotions or, he was desperately trying to get her off his back. 

He simply rolled the problem off his shoulder. She found it odd for he was taking situations like this so lightly that she constantly badgered him her apologies, which he waved his hand dismissively at her. 

Piper declared that he has often have a near-death experience every now and then when he goes out on a hunt. She suppressed her suspicions for now, and plopped herself into a chair. He took a seat, as well, and they shared a moment of silence together. 

It was out of sheer boredom, but Violet whistled out a tune straight out of nowhere. Her notes may as well be off, but she was at content. She closed her eyes and pictured a field of flowers, kind of cliché, she painted a forest; tall but firm green pines that towered over. She created a stream; its crystal clean water gushed into a pleasant waterfall that she practically felt the refreshing spray upon her face. 

Creeping slow, but very subtle, another voice sang out. She reopened her eyelids and made eye contact with Piper, who was playing along with her, though he was truly a better competition than her. Violet didn’t mind much, but gladly accepted him, as they engaged in a duet. Piper was impressive, and he twirled their song in a spectacular waltz. She was slow, but Violet saw the canvas changing. He was crafting a scenery. The field of flowers remained the same, but he blanketed out a charcoal sky that strewn over their heads. He painted stars out of tears, and the moon, oh, it was lucent and beautiful. Violet lost herself in the song, being subdued by his dark ocean irises. 

As they were nearing the climate of their song, her mind thought it was nice to bail on her, and so she immediately stopped, but he still played on. She desperately tried but failed to jump in to rejoin the battle, so she gave up and listened diligently, as he finished. 

They paused. The resonate of their music lingered around them like a dream-like aura. The scenery that they both created together faded slowly from existence, and all that stands was the bittersweet ambience that hung above their heads. 

Violet couldn’t help but crack a smile, a giggle tickled her throat, and before she could stop herself, she let loose an uncontrollably laughing fit. Piper couldn’t help himself, and joined along with her in a silent fit. 

However, in a fragment of a second, he detected a slight change in her chuckle. It was unnerving and dark, as if something nefarious was hiding underneath her colors. As quickly as it came, it vanished. He was done doing his part in acting foolish, as Violet took a breather and calmed down. She took noticed of his still figure. 

“Is something wrong?” Violet frowned. Piper caught his slip-up, and shook his head. His eyes, though, told otherwise. “You know, I’m always here if you want to talk.” She nodded, totally missing the point.

He picked up his flute. “Well, there is something I have been weighing on.”

“I’m all ears,”

“I… have forgotten what I sound like.” She blinked at his confession. Violet haven’t stop to think about his voice, and probably, not at all. A clang of guilt echoed in her ears, as he continued. “It has been many years since I have lost my voice. Quite frankly, I long to hear it again.” He lowered his gaze, his eyes becoming glassy. Piper clenched his flute slightly, as if regretting a great decision, he made once upon a time 

Violet hesitated, wanting to ask him a question, but she dreaded that it might be too personal for him to answer. She did it anyway. “Were you born mute?”

“No, I was cursed,” The word ‘cursed’ bounced about in Violet’s mind, somehow, a faint bell chimed in the distance. “A powerful witch afflicted it upon me. But I have forgotten what sort of sin I have committed.” Piper lowered his flute and set it on the table. He wore an expression of hurt and anger. Something about his past has been agonizing him for probably, who knows when, all his life maybe. 

“It’s a shame that my healing abilities can’t resolve your problem.” She sighed. Violet shifted her gaze down at her hands, they were worn and still young. She has seen them work with their bluish green vibrant colors. Violet lifted her stare and met his. A twitch stretched slightly on his lips; a small smile. In his own words, he thanked her for her consideration. But it was all in vain, since Violet figured that this powerful witch can defiantly defy her puny attempts in magic. 

“How about this,” Violet mused. “If and when we escape this hell-house, we should go and search for your voice. Find the witch and demand it back.” She nodded. Piper arched his eyebrow, declaring the word, ‘what’?

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “I’m serious! It’s a promise!” Piper stared at her in his usual silence. His smile turned into a genuine one. He waved his hand and nodded. They turned their attention to the window that had the sun breaking above the horizon. The morning yellow and orange blended well with the dark blue and purplish night sky. They could go to bed, but how could they let this amazing moment of friendship pass? “Well, want breakfast?”

Piper stood with his smile still plastered on his face. He nodded and walked to the door. He held it for her, which she thanked, as the both of them marched down to the kitchen.

“Violet,” the said woman perked her attention to the dark eyed man before her. “Do you know how to defend yourself?” She paused, wiped away her mouth by the back of her hand and shook her head. “Well, do you mind if I were to teach you to do so?” he offered. 

She blinked at his request. This was out of the blue, and threw her off guard. She slowly nodded, as she considered it. It would be nice, she thought, to be able to learn a survival skill. I don’t have to rely on my magic in extreme measures. 

“Great, we can start today.” Piper left the table and stood at the entrance of the kitchen, and watched her gaping back at him.

“Wait, what?” Violet followed Piper out into the hallways, down a few flights of stairs, and finally into the dungeon room. “A-aren’t you supposed to go to work in a few hours?” she stammered. She saw his hand waving absent-mindedly in the air. A scowl soon found a way on her face.

Piper searched around for something in the dim-lit chamber. Her eyes trailed behind him, as he ducked underneath a wooden beam and dug inside a barrel full of assortments. He reappeared with a pair of daggers. They weren’t exactly a matching set, but they would do. He tested their tip and blade, she bet they were alright, once he handed her them, handle first. 

Violet’s reflection cast a look of concern, as she glanced back at Piper. She has never seen him with blades, only with his flute, so she was unsure that he could teach her the basics. He must have heard her unheard words, and smiled in assuring. 

The next few hours, he instructed the basics of self-defense, and soon taught her about knives. He fixed her stances and how to thrust when needed. “Well, now that you got the basics done, I’m sure you can practice on your own?”

She was beading with sweat by the time they finished. Violet barely nodded, wishing that she gotten in better shape. Piper quietly chuckled and lightly patted her on her shoulder. “S-sure,” she uttered quietly.

“Alright then, I have to get to work.”

“I thought you were going to skip it today, that was the plan, no?” she stood still, and carefully crossed her arms. A frown upon her face.

“I’m sure you can handle on your own.” He smirked. She pushed her lips into a pout, and stared at him. She was hoping to learn more, and this is the closest time they had with each other, not to mention exploring with him, he was always so busy. “Fine,” her gaze softened. “When I return, we can practice again later at night. I promise.”

She beamed. ‘Yes!’ she did a silent woot on the inside. “You better not break it.”

“I won’t,” They waved each other goodbye, as Violet gripped the daggers.


	5. A Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Abuse.

It was late at night, Violet apologized, deeply, numerous times that she nearly killed Piper. Half an hour ago, she woke up with her hands all red, as if they were writhing something soft, and by stealing a glance at him, she noticed the blotchy redness around his neck. He rubbed his neck gingerly, but the expression in his eyes freaked her out the most. The look of terror.

She couldn’t recall any details while she was asleep. It was as if she was being possessed by some dark entity, but Piper assured her that her eyes weren’t rolled up in her skull, or that she didn’t mutter anything. However, Violet stared him square in the eyes. He wasn’t telling her everything. Piper was either good at hiding his emotions or, he was desperately trying to get her off his back. 

He simply rolled the problem off his shoulder. She found it odd for he was taking situations like this so lightly that she constantly badgered him her apologies, which he waved his hand dismissively at her. 

Piper declared that he has often have a near-death experience every now and then when he goes out on a hunt. She suppressed her suspicions for now, and plopped herself into a chair. He took a seat, as well, and they shared a moment of silence together. 

It was out of sheer boredom, but Violet whistled out a tune straight out of nowhere. Her notes may as well be off, but she was at content. She closed her eyes and pictured a field of flowers, kind of cliché, she painted a forest; tall but firm green pines that towered over. She created a stream; its crystal clean water gushed into a pleasant waterfall that she practically felt the refreshing spray upon her face. 

Creeping slow, but very subtle, another voice sang out. She reopened her eyelids and made eye contact with Piper, who was playing along with her, though he was truly a better competition than her. Violet didn’t mind much, but gladly accepted him, as they engaged in a duet. Piper was impressive, and he twirled their song in a spectacular waltz. She was slow, but Violet saw the canvas changing. He was crafting a scenery. The field of flowers remained the same, but he blanketed out a charcoal sky that strewn over their heads. He painted stars out of tears, and the moon, oh, it was lucent and beautiful. Violet lost herself in the song, being subdued by his dark ocean irises. 

As they were nearing the climate of their song, her mind thought it was nice to bail on her, and so she immediately stopped, but he still played on. She desperately tried but failed to jump in to rejoin the battle, so she gave up and listened diligently, as he finished. 

They paused. The resonate of their music lingered around them like a dream-like aura. The scenery that they both created together faded slowly from existence, and all that stands was the bittersweet ambience that hung above their heads. 

Violet couldn’t help but crack a smile, a giggle tickled her throat, and before she could stop herself, she let loose an uncontrollably laughing fit. Piper couldn’t help himself, and joined along with her in a silent fit. 

However, in a fragment of a second, he detected a slight change in her chuckle. It was unnerving and dark, as if something nefarious was hiding underneath her colors. As quickly as it came, it vanished. He was done doing his part in acting foolish, as Violet took a breather and calmed down. She took noticed of his still figure. 

“Is something wrong?” Violet frowned. Piper caught his slip-up, and shook his head. His eyes, though, told otherwise. “You know, I’m always here if you want to talk.” She nodded, totally missing the point.

He picked up his flute. “Well, there is something I have been weighing on.”

“I’m all ears,”

“I… have forgotten what I sound like.” She blinked at his confession. Violet haven’t stop to think about his voice, and probably, not at all. A clang of guilt echoed in her ears, as he continued. “It has been many years since I have lost my voice. Quite frankly, I long to hear it again.” He lowered his gaze, his eyes becoming glassy. Piper clenched his flute slightly, as if regretting a great decision, he made once upon a time 

Violet hesitated, wanting to ask him a question, but she dreaded that it might be too personal for him to answer. She did it anyway. “Were you born mute?”

“No, I was cursed,” The word ‘cursed’ bounced about in Violet’s mind, somehow, a faint bell chimed in the distance. “A powerful witch afflicted it upon me. But I have forgotten what sort of sin I have committed.” Piper lowered his flute and set it on the table. He wore an expression of hurt and anger. Something about his past has been agonizing him for probably, who knows when, all his life maybe. 

“It’s a shame that my healing abilities can’t resolve your problem.” She sighed. Violet shifted her gaze down at her hands, they were worn and still young. She has seen them work with their bluish green vibrant colors. Violet lifted her stare and met his. A twitch stretched slightly on his lips; a small smile. In his own words, he thanked her for her consideration. But it was all in vain, since Violet figured that this powerful witch can defiantly defy her puny attempts in magic. 

“How about this,” Violet mused. “If and when we escape this hell-house, we should go and search for your voice. Find the witch and demand it back.” She nodded. Piper arched his eyebrow, declaring the word, ‘what’?

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “I’m serious! It’s a promise!” Piper stared at her in his usual silence. His smile turned into a genuine one. He waved his hand and nodded. They turned their attention to the window that had the sun breaking above the horizon. The morning yellow and orange blended well with the dark blue and purplish night sky. They could go to bed, but how could they let this amazing moment of friendship pass? “Well, want breakfast?”

Piper stood with his smile still plastered on his face. He nodded and walked to the door. He held it for her, which she thanked, as the both of them marched down to the kitchen.

“Violet,” the said woman perked her attention to the dark eyed man before her. “Do you know how to defend yourself?” She paused, wiped away her mouth by the back of her hand and shook her head. “Well, do you mind if I were to teach you to do so?” he offered. 

She blinked at his request. This was out of the blue, and threw her off guard. She slowly nodded, as she considered it. It would be nice, she thought, to be able to learn a survival skill. I don’t have to rely on my magic in extreme measures. 

“Great, we can start today.” Piper left the table and stood at the entrance of the kitchen, and watched her gaping back at him.

“Wait, what?” Violet followed Piper out into the hallways, down a few flights of stairs, and finally into the dungeon room. “A-aren’t you supposed to go to work in a few hours?” she stammered. She saw his hand waving absent-mindedly in the air. A scowl soon found a way on her face.

Piper searched around for something in the dim-lit chamber. Her eyes trailed behind him, as he ducked underneath a wooden beam and dug inside a barrel full of assortments. He reappeared with a pair of daggers. They weren’t exactly a matching set, but they would do. He tested their tip and blade, she bet they were alright, once he handed her them, handle first. 

Violet’s reflection cast a look of concern, as she glanced back at Piper. She has never seen him with blades, only with his flute, so she was unsure that he could teach her the basics. He must have heard her unheard words, and smiled in assuring. 

The next few hours, he instructed the basics of self-defense, and soon taught her about knives. He fixed her stances and how to thrust when needed. “Well, now that you got the basics done, I’m sure you can practice on your own?”

She was beading with sweat by the time they finished. Violet barely nodded, wishing that she gotten in better shape. Piper quietly chuckled and lightly patted her on her shoulder. “S-sure,” she uttered quietly.

“Alright then, I have to get to work.”

“I thought you were going to skip it today, that was the plan, no?” she stood still, and carefully crossed her arms. A frown upon her face.

“I’m sure you can handle on your own.” He smirked. She pushed her lips into a pout, and stared at him. She was hoping to learn more, and this is the closest time they had with each other, not to mention exploring with him, he was always so busy. “Fine,” her gaze softened. “When I return, we can practice again later at night. I promise.”

She beamed. ‘Yes!’ she did a silent woot on the inside. “You better not break it.”

“I won’t,” They waved each other goodbye, as Violet gripped the daggers.


	6. The Pied Piper's Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Piper.

“Tell me more about you,” Piper’s flute sounded one day. He and Violet were imprisoned in one of the bird cages, not because they wanted to. They were simply hanging out. Violet, on one hand, wasn’t much of a talker, but since he was her only human friend, she needed to open up. So, she faced him with crossed legs. 

“I was raised by witches,” she started, anticipating on his reaction, but he made no reply from his silver instrument. She guessed that he was just a good listener. “Before I became a teenager, I knew that I was the elephant in the room, the unwanted family member of the witch group. Whenever I practiced magic, my spells have always gone awry. Even riding a broom was difficult enough.” Violet laughed darkly at the bitter memories that resurfaced behind her eyes. She could easily recall all those events that she insisting to forget. 

 

“And then?” he asked quietly, as he leant against the metal bars. Violet tucked in her legs to her chest, and rested her head on her knees. It took her a couple of minutes to respond. 

 

“I was immediately disowned.” She muttered so quiet, that even if Piper heard her, he knew her words were filled with misery and hurt. Her memories flashed behind her eyes once again, and she was forced to watch herself being kicked out of her little hut she once called home. Her mother and siblings didn’t give her much of a second glance, as the door slammed shut, scarring little Violet to her core. It was then that the hanging cage creaked uncomfortably, as the silence between them deepened. “After that, I searched on for jobs in order to have food on my plate. Also, in need to survive. What about you? Do you have a tragic story to reveal?”

 

However, it was his turn to repent his sealed-up memories. His eyes grew dark, as if a raging storm was beginning to spill forth from them. He turned away, therefore, their bonding moment has come to a close. It was alright, though, Violet forgave him because it was the madness of this empire that has inflicted their sanity. 

 

As the atmosphere fell heavily on their shoulders, it was Violet who’s smile twisted to her ears. Sometime earlier, she accidentally opened a door of her own insanity, and that was when it broke loose, and she was lost in herself momentarily. 

 

Violet held her face to resist the urge to scream, instead she laughed and laughed hysterically through her teeth. Pieces of her past flashed so suddenly and so quickly in her head, the angrier she became. “I was so young, young!” she declared, standing up as she gripped the metal bars until her knuckles turned white. “Nobody gave a damn about a child who wandered the streets in the cold, harsh rain. Not even a second glance at a filthy child who was yearning for a home…. Nobody.” She grimaced, when the hot tears shed from her puffy, red eyes burning her face of her remorse. At last, she fell to her knees and wept into her hands. The anger reluctantly simmering down.

 

For Piper, he wasn’t reacting, in fact, he wasn’t even animated. But, Violet didn’t blame him. There were times like these, where they would vent until their tears burned and their fists bloody and worn. Violet has seen him lashing out several times in the past; suffering the same dementia as she did. 

 

 

Lately, Violet has been observing Piper for the past week. He would always be on edge, irrigated if spoken to, and she always received the cold shoulder from him. The closer they were together, she felt as if he was so far away. She couldn’t recall the day it happened, but on that unfaithful day, Piper began to put some distance between them. He came home later than usual, and left earlier as possible. When they had a chance to meet, he was brief, and left without so much a sound from his flute. She was crestfallen, when she realized that their bond was bending that it was on the verge of breaking. They have come so far, yet the link they shared was thinning. 

 

One day, Violet peered down at his sleeping body, his breathing was unsteady, but he seemed to be at ease, for now. It was already past noon, and it looked as though he was a male version of Sleeping Beauty. ‘At least he got to sleep in for once.’ She nodded just as his body stirred, his eyes fluttering opened. When he sat up and stretched, his body froze, his eyes flew to the window and saw how far the sun has flown over the sky. He quickly snatched his flute in haste off his nightstand. 

 

“Why didn’t you wake me up this morning?” he demanded rather harshly. She quaked in fear at his sudden change in personality. Violet followed him, as he crashed to the floor, tangled in his blankets, he wrestled aggressively to get out. 

 

“You were sleeping so peacefully, for once, I didn’t want to disturb you. Recently, you have not been getting enough sleep. I was only worried about your health.” She sighed, freeing him from the bed sheets. Piper slapped away her helping hands, resulting a stunned Violet. 

 

“That doesn’t matter,” he sneered. The Piper that she knew before has somehow transformed into somebody entirely different. Somebody that wasn’t fitting for his character. He was aiming for the door, reaching out for the doorknob.

 

“He told me that you had a day off,” Violet whispered, still recovering from his obscure behavior. Piper turned to her, his expression dark, telling her one word that she received so easily. “I… I told him that you weren’t getting up anytime soon, when he was calling for you.” 

 

Piper’s footsteps stomped towards her, his tall figure towering over her. She cowered slightly at his foreboding shadow, she had to step back to take a breather. “Why haven’t you confirm this to me?” Violet was growing sick of his odd behavior, of course, she was still afraid that he might snap again, and chances were that he would do just that. 

 

“Believe me, I have tried waking you up. I poked your cheek, shook you awake, and I even slapped you, lightly, yet you refused to get up.” She spat. He cast her a look of disapproval, and Violet swore she could hear the sounds of their link snapping. “What has gotten into you? Lately, you have been in such a shitty mood that you’re constantly on edge.” 

 

He shook his head, and retreated. “It doesn’t concern you,” he withdrew himself from the conversation, but Violet did not allow him to do so. She snatched his wrist, jerking him so that he could face her. The anger in his eyes were retreating, and was being replaced by sadness. 

 

“Yes it does,” she gripped tighter, urging him to look her way. “You are my friend. That means that your health matters to me. Whatever that is bothering you, you can always confide in me.” She nodded. But he ripped away from her grasp, stating otherwise, and strode towards the door again. Growling, Violet was growing impatient and did what she never thought she would do. She ran full speed ahead, taking ahold of his waist, thus, tackling him to the floor. She knew that violence was never the answer, however if somebody keeps ignoring her, she was bound to take some action. 

 

Piper struggled from her weight, thrusting her aside, yet he stumbled and noticed that she has grappled onto his ankles. He sighed, and planted himself to the floor. He surrendered his hands, resulting his defeat. A smile sprung from her lips, but she still held tight in case he might make a break for it. He took his flute to his lips.

 

“I don’t remember when, but I have been dealing with a series of nightmares. A woman’s voice is always present, yet her identity is always concealed for reasons I don’t know. She would often beg to play a game of hide-and-go-seek, but I declined each time. I finally gave in.” Violet listened closely, pondering on whose voice belonged to. “It was then that I realized that I could never win. I ran after her, but after each corner, or no matter how close I get, she was merely tantalizing me. And then I wake up.” He finished. By now, Violet let go of his feet. She was speechless, and eerily quiet. “At least say something,” he lightly toot. 

 

But Violet withdrew herself, and stood back from him. She was comprehending on his dream’s concept, in some way, it made sense to her, in a way that it related to her that scared her to her bones. And if she were to deliver this news to him, he wouldn’t accept her as she was. “Do you recall,” she whispered lowly that he had to craned his neck to hear her. “the night when I had my nightmare?” he nodded slowly, anxious to hear her words. “You told me that I have latched my hands onto your neck, choking you in attempts for death.”

 

“What are you trying to say?” his flute replied quietly. He was on his feet, slowly striding towards her. Violet faced him with silver tears making rivulets down her cheeks. She held herself, unable to contain her frightened state of mind. Piper swallowed, and stepped forward boldly, reaching out to comfort her, but she fell back and bumped into the table. 

 

“It’s me,” she claimed, her hand pressed to her lips. “It’s because of me that you’re suffering like this. In some way, I am the one who has been plaguing you these nightmares. I’m sorry… I’m sorry,” she began to sob, Piper watched her in alarm. He couldn’t decipher her words well, whatever was going on in her mind was false. He knew that, yet she was being delusional. Piper needed to snap her out of her deranged state. 

 

“Don’t act so foolish!” he declared, but Violet didn’t faze by his outburst. “How can you claim that you’re the one who is causing my madness to spread forth? Like I stated before, it has nothing to do with you.” He set his flute to the floor and ran for her, and he successfully captured her into his arms. He held on tightly, as she squirmed and demanded to be released. Piper, without his tool to communicate, told his words through his action that she must not need to worry for he was going to be okay. 

 

Violet managed to find a way to slap him, hard, across the face, but he didn’t budge. Their wavering bodies fell to the floor once more, and Violet had enough of his embrace, refusing to listen to his silent words. She gathered her energy and shoved it into Piper’s chest, sending him flying across the room. It suddenly dawned on her after she cast the protection spell. ‘Did I just do that?’ She got up and ran towards Piper, who literally shoved her away the moment he got to his feet. He didn’t give her a glance as he stormed out of the room. 

 

“W-wait,” she shouted after him. “I didn’t mean to…” she whimpered, shedding a few stray tears. Violet shook her head, and ran after him.   
Piper

 

He must have heard her running after him, so he quickened his pace. This led into a mad chase, their footsteps stampeding loudly in the corridors, as he ran into twists and turns of the castle hallways, hoping to lose her. At last, he made it to the dungeon, and accidentally knocked over a witch, who was evidently feeding Dragon her afternoon meal. Piper didn’t stop to apologize and ran ahead. Violet, being right behind him, nearly tripped over the same witch, who was picking up the first aftermath. 

 

“Halt,” the witch screamed, her voice lacing with malice. The twosome obeyed and stopped in their tracks, their uneven breathing syncing. They turned to the her, as she strode to them; her tongue clicking in disapproval. “What is the meaning of this? We can’t have children running about, and acting like this place as their own.” She pinched Violet on the cheek, where Violet yelped and strained against her. “Children like you needs to be punished.” She smirked. 

 

“Oh don’t bother getting your hands dirty,” a voice entered the chamber, as all eyes fell on the dwarf with short orange hair, following him was the top four witches that always trailed after him. Today he wore his business suit, which was basically entirely made of white. He must have finished dealing with one of his customers. “I’ll gladly take the reins.” He smiled coyly. Rumpel snapped his fingers, and Piper knew the cue, he knelt down, and expected for his upcoming agony. He strolled over to him with his cane in hand. The witch from before stood next to Violet, and struck her in the stomach before nailing her to the floor; locking Violet’s arms behind her back. 

 

Piper stole a glance at her, knowing that she would be safe before the cane made contact with his head. The pain exploded upon impact, but he held his position, enduring the beatings from Rumpelstiltskin. The cane poked and whacked all over his body, causing welts to form. He heard Violet in the background, whimpering at the sight before her.

 

This wasn’t enough to satisfy Rumpel, but his results did make him smile once more. He clapped his hand cleaned and eyed the witch who held down Violet. She nodded and released her, but Violet remained on the floor; simply appalled at the torture that she has witnessed, but didn’t make a move. 

 

Rumpel raised an eyebrow, his eyes flew from Violet and Piper, and his was grinning by then. He let out a snicker, hiding the truth that only he knew, and gestured his witches to follow suit. Now, Piper was enclosed by his torturers once more. He no longer could see Violet, as he inhaled a sharp breath. The first blow was to his face, knocking him aback, he was kicked by the heels of the shoes from behind. It impaled through his tunic and punctured a hole through his back. He was now on all fours, gasping for oxygen. Rumpel took his turn and thrust his cane into Piper’s side, he repeated the action about several times, even if Piper has fallen on his side he didn’t stop. His laughter rose with much excitement; it was as if a child playing with a new toy. 

 

Piper must have passed out because when he woke up, he found Violet hovering over him with tears staining her cheeks. A few droplets fell and soaked in his cut open face. He wished to smear away those tears, for he was the cause to her anguish, but he couldn’t persuade his body to do his bidding. He appreciated her hand, as she calmly pets his wounded cheek. 

 

“No, you’re the monster, Violet,” Rumpelstiltskin drawled. He walked up to them, “You’re the one who did this to him. You’re the reason why he’s in so much pain.” Violet balled her fists, her mind was instantaneously saying otherwise, but as she absorbed his words, the more she began to self-doubt. Rumpelstiltskin snatched a bundle of her hair, and dragged her face to his eye level. “When I command you to do something, I expect you to obey.” He dropped her head and yelled, “Now, HEAL HIM!”   
Violet needn’t another reminder, as she passed her healing magic all over Piper’s body. The familiar bluish green glowed in a somber light, her tears of forgiveness stung her face once more, but she swallowed back a sob. Her own conscious was at war with her, thus she was led into nothing but confusion. She ducked her head low; refusing to make eye contact with her only best friend. It was understandable that her body was shutting down, only numbness followed. 

 

Less than thirty minutes or so, give or take, his injuries have finally healed, though they were nothing but scars. It didn’t matter to either of them. Piper felt compassionate for his friend, for it was he who caused such misery onto her. His insanity drained instantaneously, as he felt his chest brimming up with remorse. He reached out to comfort her, wanting to hold her until she was still, and tell her that everything was alright, but he had no chance, as she fled the room. 

 

Piper dragged his stone-like feet back to his room. Upon entering, he was greeted by the sounds of her muffled sobbing from underneath her covers. He picked up the remains of his   
flute, as he settled into bed. He was not able to bear her cries, as he pulled his covers over his head, and closed his eyes. He knew that it was going to be a long night before he can even get a good night sleep. At last, Piper woke up to the early morning’s light. He crept quietly out of bed, stepping close to her bed to see if she has fallen asleep. Her soft, but unsubtle breathing indicated that she was, and so he left her in her sorrows. 

 

The following days were the same. He fell into a monotone routine. He would wake up, check on his friend before heading out for work. Later that night, he would check on her again, only to see her head still shrouded in blankets; he listened earnestly on her sobbing until he drifted off to dreamland. But there was no dream to dream, and even if he did, he would relive his nightmare instead. 

 

Whenever he would get damaged from the war, he had to come home to the cries of his roommate, yet she healed him, but never gave him so much of a glance. This problem that they shared was not going to end, therefore he was at his wits end, growing tired and worn from her endless wailing and her silence that killed him was enough. One day, the musician grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, glaring in attempts to resolve her shattered self. It didn’t make much of a result, and he was losing patience. Piper started a song, whistling the same tune they enjoyed together, but her puffy, red eyes stared blankly back at him. It was no use, so he set her back to her bed. Slumping against the bedside, he wept into his hands, he knew he couldn’t bring her back, and that hurt him. He cursed himself, he cursed Violet, but mostly of all, he cursed Rumpelstiltskin to fucking hell. 

 

But it was that moment when, a repressed memory emerged from the surface of his fragmented mind. It played itself like a record, winding the scene he once forgotten, a memory that was buried deep under so much debris. Not too long ago, he was not exactly sure, but Violet mentioned that she wanted to hear him play his flute. At that time, the two of them were learning to cope with each other’s companies, so he refused, and told her that if he played, the notes he needed would not be fitting for his song. And just like that, the piece of the past slipped back into his long-term memory. With little hope he had left, Piper plucked his flute from his legs, wet his lips and blew. He played with such emotion, it brought tears to his eyes. All he wanted was her forgiveness. 

 

No need to drown in your tears,

 

There’s nothing to be afraid here,

 

Let loose of the past, and sleep once more,

 

I’ll guide you to the surface if you trust me,

 

If you trust me,

 

I’ll take you to the top of the surface; relinquish 

 

Those doubts you once called friends,

 

I’ll be there for you until the end,

 

Let loose of the strings on your heart,

 

Let’s begin again at the start

 

As his song ceased, he listened diligently to her, but her woebegone tears were no longer present, and the soft noise of her breathing notified him that he done his job well. Yet, Piper was too exhausted to find his own comfort, and stayed by her side, falling asleep, and for once, dreamed a better dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at all these updates...


	7. The Plan

The party above them reverberated loudly, causing the ceiling to tremble, even the cages in their chamber shuddered by the vibrations. The only thing that contrasted the sound was Dragon’s grunting in the background, as she accompanied Piper and her in their little camp-out. She kept them warm with the heat of her body and her occasional smog that bellowed from her nostrils. They stocked up on potions from the potion bar upstairs, as well food from the kitchen.  
This was a time where Rumpelstiltskin held his usual parties to which he celebrated for no apparent reason. He would always host them, as he drank in luxury and was always surrounded by his ‘lovely’ witches. She and Piper were originally invited however Violet was demoted quickly from her position at the potion bar. She basically screwed on all of the orders, not to mention brewing up a catastrophe in the cauldrons. Piper, on the other hand, had the choice to attend such an event, but he told her in the beginning that that kind of parties does not suit him; which she agreed with him.  
So instead, they camped out downstairs along with Dragon and stayed there until the party died down. Violet leant against Dragon’s side belly, and nibbled on a strawberry in content. On her right, Piper fumed on his wooden pipe as he chipped away on his new flute. She stole a glance and admired how beautifully structured it was, and that the details were intense. However, he merely tossed it aside, reaching inside his knapsack for a new stick of wood. ‘What a waste.’ she huffed.  
It was then that Piper was the first to break the silence in the room. He caught her by surprise with the sounds of his original flute, the chamber walls soaking in his soft melody. “Do you mind confiding in me of what that ‘shiver’ earlier this week was?” he questioned.  
Violet chucked away the remains of the strawberry and shrugged. “It doesn’t concern you.” she replied, as she was reaching for another piece of fruit in the fruit bowl. But, he swiped the bowl out from her reach. In results, he received a scowl from her part. He didn’t take that into consideration of her discomfort, and insisted her to answer him truthfully. “Even if I told you, you wouldn’t understand.” she crossed her arms and faced him.  
“I have entrusted you about my own secrets, Violet, I also am not the type to go around and tattle about my companion’s woe. Do you really find me distrustful?” his flute played a soft but saddening tune, and she couldn’t help but to rescind her action towards him. Violet dropped her arms and gave him an apologetic stare.  
“I’m sorry,” he nodded in forgiveness. “Fine, I’ll tell you. Ever recall Rumpel mentioning about a guy name Shrek?” she waited patiently for him to give me a response. He stared intently in thought, and gave her a curt nod. “Well, he has finally made his appearance known. I don’t know whether you believe in this superstition or not, but I know that he will be the one to save us.”  
This information made his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His eyes bored hard through hers, trying to get a grip of what his companion was telling him. “Why do you have so much faith in such a man, to think that he may or may not be our savior?”  
“Shrek is not a man. He is an ogre, and my friend. Even if we have made impasses in the past, I know–” she was cut short by Piper’s flute flaring suspiciously.  
“You are friends with an ogre?” he scoffed and continued. “They are the enemies for too long. We have been hunting them for countless times, not to mention that they have some recruitment that are humans. They are ruthless and attack without question, ogres cannot be trusted.” By now they were on their feet and sharing a glaring a contest with each other, while Dragon sat back and watched the scene unfold.  
Violet’s face darkened. A few tears were threatening to break loose, but she refused to lose this battle. “Then I must ask you, Piper,” he lowered his flute and listened earnestly. “Why are you friends with me?” at the same time with Piper’s silence, the party upstairs went dead quiet.  
They shot their heads to the ceiling and wondered what on earth has happened. The party was not due, whereas it still had a few more hours to go. Violet’s eyes flew back to Piper; he was considering her words sincerely in the same silence as upstairs. She huffed in frustration, stomping her foot to the ground, she captured his attention.  
“If only we had access to go upstairs.” She lamented. Violet’s anger slowly drained from her body, she lowered her head, knowing that her faith in Shrek was dwindling. She waited, and waited for something else to happen. The quietness that surrounded the chamber’s walls were suffocating. Even Piper’s still figure was deafening. 

“I’m sorry for the way I acted,” Piper broke the ice, he lowered his eyes; asking for some forgiveness. But, she shook her head. Violet slowly stepped up to him, and softly rested her hand on his arm. 

“No, you’re right. I shouldn’t get my hopes up for some beacon to guide me home. If I wish to escape this funhouse, then I should do it myself, that is, if you want to join me?” she whispered, and lifted her gaze at her friend’s eye level. They were soft, and understandable, he lowered his flute and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She snaked her arms around his waist, and leant her head against his shoulder. The hug lasted a few seconds until they parted. “I’m sorry,”

Piper was about to reply, when suddenly a loud clang struck the ceiling above them; causing both of them to jump in the air. The metal sound bounced off the walls until the large object rolled to a stop. Violet stared back at Piper, and they both figured the same idea that ran through their minds. “Angry wig,” they mused in unison.

 

Ever since the party a few hours ago was a total bust, Rumpel demanded to form a meeting, concerning a certain ogre that escaped his castle walls. He also ordered another metal ball in replacement to the one that fell on the throne room’s floor.  
Many witches scurried about, carrying trays of cupcakes with wig-shaped frosting to the conference room. Those who were in the top ranks sat at their seats, waiting for the meeting to begin. Even the Piper made his appearance, of course, he leant up against the wall with crossed arms. Rumpel stared intently at his hourglass, the glimmering entity that was dwindling by the second. All of occupants remained in the eerie long silence, and that they could practically hear Rumpel’s gears reeling.  
Rumpelstiltskin turned his attention to the witch nearest to him, “Matilda, what’s keeping her?” the said witch jolted in her chair, shook her head nervously, thus, angering him more. “Somebody receive her!” he ordered. Matilda stood, knocking her chair back, and ran from the room. Baba, one of the top three witches, spoke up from her spot at the table.  
“Sire,” he shifted his gaze to her, startling her for just a bit, “Why do we need her?” Rumpel rolled his eyes, as if not implying her stupidity.  
“She’s crucial to the mission I have in mind for her.” He responded, yet, he sounded as though his voice contained a bit of a worry tone. The ambience in the conference room shifted slightly, whereas, in each of everyone’s mind thought that he may have a bit of heart after all.  
At the same time this was happening, Violet went out on a stroll in the castle’s corridors. She knew that she was not needed, so what was the point in lingering in her room all night? She traced her fingers on the walls, as she passed them, contemplating about Shrek, and whether he was the intruder or not. Her thoughts were broken, when someone snatched her wrist, pulling herself back to earth.  
“There you are!” She blinked at the witch, which she knew was named Matilda, but resisted a bit in suspicion. “You’re needed for the meeting.” This time, she stood, whereas the said witch began tugging with more force.  
“Wait, they want me to attend?” She queried, watching her arm being jerked, she saw the witch nodding and groaning in an effort in moving her obstacle forward. “Fine,” so Violet took back her wrist, letting poor Matilda hit the ground hard. Violet didn’t regard her and marched herself down to the conference room, she did, however, hear her panting breath as the witch jogged behind her.  
She sat awkwardly at the table, squeezing between Matilda and a random witch, as she stared down the table at Rumpelstiltskin. He was gazing at his large hourglass that contained some sort of glimmering entity dwindling slowly within the glass. He began his speech, though, his words went straight through her one ear and out the other, not catching anything he just said. But she did stop to lean on his talk about the plan.  
“The false information has successfully fallen into their ears. It won’t be long until the plan will be set in motion.” a witch reported, Rumpel nodded at that, as he twirled a chalice full of water in his hand. He peered into the contents, his reflection shimmering back at him.  
“Good, we will do our usual round up. Piper,” he shot him a glance, which he received one in return, “I will need you to dress up as Fifi to act as a to throw them off-guard. Your costume will be waiting for you after this meeting.” Piper nodded in confirmation.  
“Sire,” Griselda chimed in, all heads turned to her, “What is Violet’s role in all of this?”  
Rumpel swerved on his heels, the content in his chalice daring to spill, and she made a wry expression. “Her role is simple. She will act like a shield, so you don’t need to worry about her. Since the ogres somehow has gotten their grubby hands on their own magic, we will need to be cautious in battle.”

“We… we were unable to find any evidence regarding the ogres on how they gotten their hands on magic.” A random witch piped up. Rumpel nodded slowly.

“It must be because someone else has already acquired it and shared it amongst everybody in the resistance.” Griselda confirmed, as she eyed her king. He peered into his goblet for the final time. He really wanted to throw it at someone, but he couldn’t make up his mind.  
The meeting was adjourned, and everyone has dispersed the room to prepare for the upcoming battle. Violet sat in her chair, contemplating whether she would be of use or not. Just as she was about to exit the room, Piper and Rumpel were having a conversation. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but she was curious on what they were talking about.  
“This is for you,” Rumpel handed him a ring to a very confused and disturbed Piper, who reluctantly accepted it. “Don’t worry, it’s not a promise ring,” he sneered, which was a relief to both Piper and Violet. Just imagine, the two of them at the altar, Baba, the leader of the witch clan as his bride’s maid, crying at her loss, as Violet rubbernecked at the scene. She waved her hand in the image, in hopes to erase it from her mind. “You may go now,” Violet turned back to the door in a rush that she mistaken the wall for it. 

She rested her hand on the soft wood of the carriage, her fingers curling slowly, as a familiar bell chimed far, far away from the depths of her mind. For some odd reason, the truth was refusing to be revealed, so she pushed apart herself from it to see the Piper toddling over to her. She glanced at his feet, as they were shod in some big bird feet. He made it to her without any difficulties.  
“Were you able to cast the spell?” he questioned. She shook her head, sighing to herself that she was not capable of expanding her limited magic over her transportation and to her companion. Only a small section could be covered.  
“Not yet, however, I do have a problem.” She answered, retouching the surface of the wooden exterior once more. “I can only protect either you or me.”  
“It’s important to keep you safe,” he stated, although, he regarded her stun expression, feeling a slight weight inside his chest.  
“How could you say something like that? It’s important for all of us to be safe, you should know that.”  
Piper agreed with her, but he pulled out a silver ring, and slipped it on his finger, it shone gently on him. Before she could ask, he was already playing. “You don’t need to worry about me. I will be fine. With this, this ring it would provide me enough protection during our mission.”  
She sighed to herself, again, thinking back to her own abilities, and clutched her amulet. “I want to do more but, but I just can’t.” she thought out loud. Violet was startled, when she felt his hand on her shoulder, assuring her that everything will be fine. He let go and took his flute once more.  
“If you continue to believe that you can’t, then you will never be able to do it.” Piper advised.  
“Right, thank you,” Violet conceded, knowing that if she kept on dwelling on the negative aspects on her perspective for her inability to do anything, she would always be lost. She smiled for him, and he returned it and toddled away. Then a thought popped in head, smirking she called, “Nice feet, Big Bird,” Violet cackled, as he flipped her off. As she faced the hallow carriage again, but with a smile, she closed her eyes and chanted the protection spell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for all these time jumps.


	8. The Ambush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins.

The silent girl, with a beautiful lapis lazuli that hung around her neck, sat in the center of the empty carriage. Her legs were crossed, as she was balancing her weight from each rock and crack that the carriage road. She trusted her partner to manage on making a safe journey for her, and also for him, but she found it rather difficult to do so because the ride has not been a lot of fun for her. Her stomach lurched again due to an upcoming ditch came along and surprised her. She was, then, began regretting eating before she and her partner headed off for their mission. 

 

It was like a game of chess, all players were set in motion, each side following a specific strategy. It was obvious that Violet was apprehensive for this was her first mission with Piper. That meant that if they faced failure on her behalf there would be heavy consequences. 

 

Violet sighed. Her emotions swam from the depths of her mind; yellow for anticipation, blue for melancholy, and red for rage. She was hopelessly bored, and wished for the action to come. And just like that, her wish was granted. In a flash, the hallow carriage shook violently, and Violet watched in horror as her safe haven was torn apart without mercy. Her heart got stuck in her throat, even her breathing was absence in the still but quiet scene of the ogres, who bore their befuddling minds at the puny girl before them. There might have been a dozen or so of them, standing in their heavy armor, and wielding their lethal weapons. 

 

She snapped from her faze; leaping from her feet, she hopped over the armored heads, and escaped out of sight. However, she sensed somebody else in the midst as she was aiming for the bushes. Her instincts told her to stop and be aware of her surroundings. Violet shot her head up quickly in the direction of the trees, there was a rustling noise, and then a shadowy figure ascended towards her with a long sword in the air. In a nick of time, she snatched her daggers from her belt, blocking the assassin’s attack with their blade against hers just merely inches from her face. 

 

In the moonlight, she caught a glimpse of her attacker. Her eyes grew wide in recognition at the dirty blond hair and pale blue shades. Those eyes glared immensely with fire, and she could feel the intensity of hatred from within him. He wore an eyepatch over his left eye, and his tanned skin was no longer soft, but has grown rough from many battles in the past. 

 

“Artie?” She gasped, trying to maintain his sword from ever touching her face. He narrowed his eyes, his lips twitching in arrogance.

 

“Who the hell are you?” he snarled. His strength was fierce, and Violet knew that she was losing greatly, but she held on, and somehow she was capable of pushing him away for a few seconds before he lashed out again with a yell. 

 

‘Right, Artie is different in this world. There’s no chance that he would ever recognize me as friend.’ Violet thought, as she dodged his swings. She countered one of them, and stepped forth with a thrust. He lunged forward, casting her feeble weapon aside, and swung upwards, grazing her shoulder in the progress. Violet’s open wound bled, she had no time to care for it, but it did weaken herself in battle. 

 

Arthur was on the verge for another swing, just as a pumpkin bomb flew at his feet. It exploded on impact, thus, blinding him momentarily. A voice shrieked from above in the night sky,  
Violet threw her attention for a second at the witch hovering over. “Get out of the way, GIRL,” Violet complied, nodding as she ducked away from Artie, in attempts to get far away from him as possible. Her ears picked up the faint melodious of Piper’s song in the distance. She found a thicket and flew behind it, concealing herself, and observed her partner dancing mercilessly around the group of ogres he managed to collect. They struggled under his influence, but danced helplessly about such as a puppets dancing for their puppet master.

 

The remainder of the resistance clamored their way to intervene against Piper’s powerful tune. Suddenly, not too far from the performance, Violet saw three figures appearing from atop a hill. She craned her neck to get a closer look, and caught a certain flash of familiar faces. Amongst the three were none other than Cinderella, her long, beautiful, and blond hair cascaded over her shoulders. She also wore a dress-like-armor that matched well with her original form. Sleeping Beauty, and Snow White stood with her, and also had similar appearances like her, as well. Each of them, in particular, held a unique seashell around their neck. All of them gaping their mouths and sung out for the whole battlefield to hear. Their voices stretched and stretched until they made a vibrating collision against Piper’s song. 

 

Violet watched in awe, when somebody made their move to assault her from behind. However, because of her keen sense of hearing, she bounded from the thickets. She identified the figure quickly, and stopped in dismay at the tall handsome man wielding the sword that once belonged to Artie, the rightful king of Far Far Away. Her awareness was cut short, as Artie made his appearance again except from behind. It was like a game of Monkey in the Middle, whereas Charming and Artie were it, and Violet fought in haste verses the both of them.

 

She blocked Charming’s oncoming attack, and threw a dagger at Artie, which he dismissed easily. This went on for a while, she constantly blocked, as they swung their swords, in attempts to injure or even worse, putting an end to her life. Violet eventually grew exhausted, as her wound from earlier, was opening, in a more dangerous state, alerting her that she should get it healed. For a second, she inhaled a shaky breath, staggering forward with her feet weighing to the ground. Her vision blurred slightly. The next thing that happened, she found herself sprawled on the battle grounds with a blade to her neck. Her temple throbbed painfully, as she gazed up at the two men towering over her. She couldn’t tell whose blade it belonged to, but she knew in that moment she might die on spot. 

 

But fate decided that it was not her time, when both Charming and Artie were caught off guard. A few witches took their time off and came to Violet’s aid by launching their skull-shaped chains, snatching onto the men’s ankles before reeling them off-balance. Violet’s body felt lighter for some odd reason, the ground beneath her left and before she knew it, she was swept away on the back of a witch’s broom. Her captor yelled over her shoulder. “Focus on the mission, Violet, we can’t always be looking out for you!” Violet nodded the best she can. She was let down near the cages, and watched as the witch flew away to rejoined the battle.  
Piper

 

Piper fashioned a conga line full of all of the ogres in the resistance, even a few tag-alongs has joined his dance, too. He was already rounding them into the cages that the witches brought with them, yet his job was not done. He continued to play his silver instrument, in hopes to collect the last two ogres into cages. They were, Fiona, ogress of the resistance, and an unknown ogre, possibly known as Shrek. He was able to compete against the three princesses, but their voices resonated once again, putting Piper at risk, now that he captured most of the beasts.

 

“Violet, I need you to cast a protecting shield over the cages.” He ordered. Violet thrust out her hands, conjuring the said spell over the prisoned ogres with her hands glowing faintly of greenish-blue. After that, the Piper refocused back onto the three women. Even for a frail shield like that, he knew that it won’t hold up much longer for the enemies’ melodious notes bounced off it with much passion, simultaneously countering Violet’s barrier to the point that it began to break into spider-web cracks. No sooner than later, the shield that the Violet so desperately tried to conserve shattered into a million of sparks. An enraged Piper flared his flute back into battle with much liveliness, things were about to get serious. He demanded her to structure the illusion once more, in order to prevent anymore catastrophes, but this was all too futile. 

 

Piper was merely one man against three powerful women, who were succeeding him in a war of music. It also didn’t help that Snow White’s animals were acting as a decoy, distracting not only him, but for the witches, too. He cursed silently to himself, his fingers twitching for his dial. But an occurring thought made him pause. 

 

‘I can’t risk switching species, or else Violet would be in grave danger.’ Piper confirmed. He spotted his partner, who was still resisting with all her might, ‘At least she’s safe.’ He nodded. He then spotted two figures in the distance, though, he didn’t need much time to identify them. They were speeding along the brinks of the clearing, heading towards them. Piper panicked, he was facing options, none of which he could act upon since he was currently occupied with the women from afar. A few fortunate witches noticed him and flew to him.

 

“What’s wrong?” one of them asked.

 

“Charming and Arthur are on their way here. Deal with them.” He instructed. He pointed to the oncoming figures in the distance, the witches nodded and flew off towards them. His attention was quickly drawn back to the sirens, somehow, their hex was growing with such strength, his only conclusion was that they were able to get their hands on advance magic. 

 

Suddenly, a vociferous screeching sounded into the night sky. It was an official cry of war. Before his eyes, a massive bird, a phoenix to be precisely, sprung forth from within the three women’s shells. It spread its brilliant multi-colored wings proudly, and it was about fifty feet tall. The heat of the bird radiated immensely from meters, and it felt like the flames could literally burn his eyebrows off. 

 

Piper smirked at their trump card, however, he too, had a very similar spell, and he would be able to control the battle just as he has planned it. He set his flute to his lips, wetting them slightly, before playing. His familiar was a large basilisk that wisped into the open, and grew until it was the same size of the bird. Its colors were in the shades of bluish green, and for the underside, blackish to yellow, bearing venomous fangs. He demanded it to take charge, nipping the bird with every opportunity it had, and avoiding its blazing columns of fire. 

**Violet**

 

After regaining a bit of her strength, Violet stood in the moment. With the fierce fight between snake and bird, she gaped dumbfounded as the battle raged on, she had to block her eyes from the sheer brightness the phoenix gave. ‘Unbelievable’ she smiled like an idiot, unaware of the shadowy figure stalking behind her. With a flash of white and orange, Violet’s body flew away from the cages, she rolled roughly, about a few yards, until she landed on her feet, but just barely. She cursed herself for being so foolish, as Artie reemerged from the shadows, instead of his sword in his grip, he was levitating what resembled like rune stones she has seen on that one faithful day. 

 

“What the hell? Even you have the ability to attain such magic?” Violet exclaimed with much disbelief. 

 

Artie smirked, “How amusing,” he strode closer to her, “Someone like you would belittle someone like me. I have seen you fight, you’re not much of a warrior. It’s truly pathetic.” His words shot through her heart like ice, her own friend saying such things was unforgivable. She balled her fists, and urged her body to stay awake for a little while. 

 

“Artie,” she stammered, longing for some closure. His eyes twitched, as she uttered his name again. He clenched his teeth together, and hissed.

 

“Shut up!” he raised his stones, “you’re not allowed to call me by that name!” Artie cast a fireball, and aimed it for Violet. But, she merely reflected it, pushing the ball of fire in a random direction. She smirked, as a scowl was plastered on Artie’s face. He fired again, this time, she side-stepped and sent a dagger at him. Quickly, Artie stretched the stone’s powers, creating a tall barrier, just as the dagger flew into the wall, getting absorbed in a flash. A collection of witches came to aid her for a final time, but unfortunately most them died on spot by the power of water. Artie hosed down each witch that came his way. 

 

“Stop it!” Violet hollered from afar, and then her world became terrifyingly quiet. During the chaos of two mythical beings battling each other for a fatal death, and a fight between a newfound wizard against a complete idiot, Violet was too distracted to detect Charming’s existence from behind her, his sword gouged through her side. She hardly heard him whispering into her ears.

 

“Why don’t you stop it, my darling?” he cooed, writhing his sword just to make the pain extreme, as he extracted his weapon. Blood spilled forth from her gaping mouth, her whole body went immediately numb. She was unable to hear her own beating heart screaming out in pain, it was a deafening sound, even her surroundings slowed in motion. Violet shut her eyes tightly, and let herself fall to the ground with a silent thud.


	9. As the Dead Rises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shes... ALIVE!!!

**Artie**

They carefully watched her staggering figure hit the forest floor. The clashing of weapons behind them was background music. It was as if the battle took a deep breath, keeping some sort of magic at bay, whatever lurked in the gloom had the duo on their toes. Artie’s knuckles grew white as he tightened his grip on his sword. He shook his head at the time when she called him out. It was like a bell left chiming from a distant memory, leaving him frightened to the core. Charming regarded his partner but made no comment. 

The duo swiftly turned back, when Charming hit the ground with a grunt. Artie, over his shoulder, grimaced at the sight behind him. The corpse’s hand had grasped onto the older man’s ankle, both of their eyes widen like saucers with their hearts in their throats. 

Snow white hair danced fiercely over her eyes, the color transcending into jet black, and some kind of magic bathing her body in an eerie arura. There on her face plastered a grin so impossibly wide like the corners of her lips were pulled with fishhooks. A murderous gleam flitted across her eyes.

“I thought you finished the job!” Shouted the younger man. He slashed his sword down at her lingering death grip, the blade slicing off the fingers, as he fell back in line in a two-against-one fight once more. 

Charming wiggled his foot and relieved the blood to course back in his leg. “I did.” He hissed back. 

The corpse rose from the forest floor with no signs of struggle from a recent fight. A terrible coughing fit erupted from her lips, but they both exchanged panic expressions with each other with horrible realization. 

It was a laughing fit. 

“Don’t tell me _that_ was your final blow!” she clicked her tongue, “You’re supposed to poke more holes into my stomach and chest, and to really make sure I’m officially dead, off with my head!” she dipped her head back and let out a blood-curdling cackle.

“You’re right, I should have done a more efficient job. My mistake.” Charming gritted his teeth through blood and bone and charged forward with Artie by his side, lunching their swords in unison, but the enemy was somehow always one step higher than them. She parried them with a ray of dark magic, Artie side-stepping the attack, but his partner not so lucky as he was grazed just the right of his shoulder. His skin peeling into the night as if he was seared by a blazing wave of fire. He howled in agony, clutching his tunic-soaked arm, and fell to one knee. His partner pressed forward with perfect formation. He dodged all daggers in one fluid motion, as if he was dancing with the devil.

Artie was only inches from her face, each of their blades in an intense embrace, when he peeked into her eyes and saw a different kind of light reflecting back at him. This wasn’t the same woman they fought, oh no, this right in front of him was someone entirely different – someone with much more battle experience than him, and possibly more than anyone else in the resistance. 

With such immense force, she sent Artie flying backwards. He twisted through the air and anchored his sword into the ground before he came to a halt. He lifted his sweaty gaze up at the woman, who sauntered her way to him. In the beginning of the battle, when Charming and he detected that the woman was emotionally unsuited for the fight, they targeted her assuming that this was an easy win. But seeing how the tables have turned on them, the odds for winning were slim. 

Artie steeled himself and raised his sword only to lower it in confusion. The black-haired woman picked up her pace, in one hand she drew up a dark fire ball the size of a bowling ball and randomly shot it around in all directions. All in which causing damage to whoever – wherever – they flew. “Ah hah, hah, ah hah!” a strange tinge of red blushed her face and she held her stomach. “This is beautiful, absolutely beautiful! Seeing how everyone is here to shed their blood for me is astonishing, come forward, I promise it won’t hurt much!” She came sprinting for him, leaving a trail of unnerving laughter, and jumped into the air with that same daunting grin and bewildered eyes.

Out of the blue, a rip through space cut close to where the woman would’ve hit Arthur, when Charming leapt from the portal and slit the air with his sword. Just by an inch, he missed as she glided over him and ran off.

Was _he_ not her target? 

“Arthur,” Charming ran to him breathless, “We must order a retreat.”

Hearing this had Arthur picking up his sword and bitterly striking the earth. “No, we can do this – we have to! This is our night!” 

“Can’t you see the mayhem that bitch has created?” He pointed to the woman with the gaping hole in her side. “Half of us is severely wounded. Whatever black magic the empire has spouted will surely end this war if we don’t withdraw now.” He was right, and Artie knew they shouldn’t risk anymore lives. They drew their attention back to the woman, when she suddenly appeared a few feet away from them. 

“Whew, did NOT see that coming!” She hunched over on her knees and wheezed. “She needs more exercise. Well then, let’s dance.” She sent forth a knife, aiming right at him. He was prepared to knock it out, but an ogre came to his aid. Though, she couldn’t care less about the ogre. “Ahhh, I can finally breathe, and stretch, and FIGHT.” She grinned. The woman charged forward, avoiding the ogre’s massive weapon, she picked up her dagger, and swung her body at Artie. 

Before making contact, Artie ducked away and flicked out his rune stones; each glowing with vivid colors. He managed to cast her aside and giving him enough distance. During that sequence, both the Sirens and the Piper ceased their song, their familiars fading away from existence, and as Piper gotten distracted, a few ogres were able to escaped their enclosure. 

The woman clashed with him and was amazed on the fact that he couldn’t make any sort of marking on her. She stopped assaulting him and left the battle slithering away to brawl with some other resistances’ residences, slitting their throats with her daggers.

“Now!” Charming called out to Artie, who nodded and stayed close behind him, the older man raked a hole through the air with his sword and jumped in. Artie prepared to follow after when his world was ripped from underneath him. He fell with a grunt and the portal above him sewn shut.

Damn it, damn it, damn it! 

Artie gazed up with his vision blurry. Somehow, she has managed to gain a lot of ground to catch up with him and pointed a blazing hand at the end of his nose. “Gotcha.” She winked down at him. His energy levels were dangerously low, he couldn’t move a muscle. Was this it? With a sigh of defeat, he closed his eyes… to the sounds of her crashing to the ground. He felt his body being lifted into strong arms, and as he forced open his lids, he saw Sir Lancelot beaming down at him.

“Hang in there,” 

**Piper**

Violet was on the verge to slither her way towards the two runaways, when a witch suddenly grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. She whipped her head at the seething witch, “What the hell are you doing?” It was then that Violet uttered something underneath her breath. The Piper couldn’t grasp upon what he was seeing. Yet, the witch’s body froze, unable to make a move or sound, she noticed that ice particles were forming on her thick, green skin. Her bewildered eyes began to crystalized, and before she knew it, she was encased in ice. 

Violet grinned, and smashed her fist into the statue, resulting an instant death. “Oops,” she laughed. It was certain, from that point on, to everyone’s awareness, it didn’t matter whether they were on the same side as her; someone was bound to fall in the hands of that monster. 

He stared in horror, as his friend fought recklessly to whomever gotten in her way. She ripped through the remaining ogres’ armor and into their green flesh. Her blades kissing through their skin, therefore, inviting a world of pain to her victims. 

The sirens stopped their singing, and jumped to aid their fallen friends, using their voices as weapons. Piper, now, leapt to action and ran toward Violet. She noticed him, agitated that he has made his way for her. She gaped her mouth wide, and shouted out the words, “Dragons’ breath!” A column of crystal blue fire, came hurdling at Piper. He shielded himself with his arms held high, embracing for that searing pain of intense heat burning him to crisp that never came.

He peeked an eye opened, and was in awe, as a bubble encased him. His memories shoved him back from earlier that night, Rumpelstiltskin gave him a ring, and foretold him what abilities it held. For once, he was actually grateful for that devious little man. He stood, as the fire died down, and Violet stood within yards away from him. She was about to turn away from him, when she froze. 

Piper stepped forward to view closer, she shifted her gaze at something that was hurdling down the hill with great speed. Violet seemed as though she was fighting with her inner self, but he couldn’t tell from his point of view. He grabbed his flute again, and took a moment to look back at her, when she was no longer there.

The racing object came into view, and he noticed it was a cart full of passengers; a familiar ass came thundering down. ‘Damn they were able to get away.’ He seethed, and swiftly changed his settings to donkey. The cart was gaining ground, and seemingly aiming towards him. The musician began to play when an unknown body knocked the winds out of him. He landed on his back in a daze. His head was spinning, and his vision blurred. The Piper blinked several times just in time to see his savior. 

A staggering woman stood before him, breathing hard. She glared angrily at him. It was a quarter of a second that he recognized her transformation. Her hair was slowly breaking its dark colors back to white, and that gleaming glow in her eyes was wavering. And just like that, she vanished from sight, when the cart mercilessly ran her over. Scrambling to his feet, Piper ran to the cliff, as it flew off the edge, and into the gloom hundreds of feet below. His feet slowed to a stop, as he peered down, hoping to get a glimpse of what was left of his partner. When there were no results, he fell to his knees, and pounded the dirt in defeat.


	10. Not All is Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three POV.

Piper desperately went after her when an iron grip clasped down onto his arm, steering him back to come face-to-face with a witch demanding for a retreat and collect what he has left with or without Violet. He yanked back out of her grasp and hurriedly down the cliffside, resulting a pissed witch. She slid in front of him, raised her hand back and smacked his left cheek with a sharp crack silencing the man. He stopped dead in his tracks, while blinking away the pain that screamed from his face. In a low whisper, she leant up to greet his glare, "I understand losing a comrade in battle is heartbreaking, but we are at war, Willmar. Either pull yourself together--" but Piper wasn't listening. 

What he saw within those coal, heartless eyes had changed his perspective on what he thought he knew of these witches that they were merciless in their beatings and would do anything to gain their goals. He saw compassion, such sadness lingering inside even if it was just for a moment. Was this change because of Violet? Was this ordeal the reason what Griselda was displaying? The said witch burned a hole through him with a glare, so Piper pulled himself together and stepped back without a sound. His knees ached from slamming them to the ground, as he has watched in horror as Violet disappeared from him. With the battle still raging on in the background, he took his flute once more, passing the witch with a blank face, and treaded to the cages.

It was a long, dreadful journey back to the castle. The carriages with all but minus two ogres were stuffed inside like cattle on their way to the slaughter house. The distraught man sat in deep thought, the reigns resting firmly in his grip, his concern still falling back to Violet and her whereabouts. Where was she? How was she? Being struck by a sword from behind wasn't a pleasant sensation, Piper has been in a similar situation; but then again, he has never been revived so quickly from battle like that. That glimpse of the other her, the gleam of bloodlust washing over her weakened body. Who- wait, Piper sat up straight, his thumb and fore finger squeezing his chin, and he was brooding the night when his nightmares commenced. 

He wasn't exactly truthful to Violet than he realized. At first thought, he actually believed that she was taunting him in his dreams when she confessed it was her plaguing him. It also happened at dusk, where he didn't catch a solid peek at her face at that time. If he could reflect back... the girl's demeanor resembled an exact replica of Violet, only it wasn't her. Not even close. The Violet he knew and trusted was nothing like this other... thing. Maybe she had a twin? No, what conclusion would that play out? Even to this day, Piper suspected that she didn't have any other blood relatives other than witches she called family. 

Just as his lead carriage arrived at the front doors of the castle, Piper couldn't hear the group of witches standing at his feet shouting his name. He ignored the hand reaching out for his arm, as he leapt from his seat and ducked inside, his mind still piecing the puzzle together. 

It could be possible that Violet has a split personality. That could explain the aggressiveness from before and the scene on the battle field in which he witnessed. He has heard of the disorder from missions in the past, but to be an observer was a different experience. Piper balled his fist, he figured it out and would be willing to share this to Violet once he finds her. If she hasn't realized it on her own, then it was only right for her to know the truth.

Piper nonchalantly walked right into the dungeons, when Rumpel grilled him right on the spot, as the remaining witches herded the resistance into the birdcages, all occupants sailed through the air. It was then that he was brought back to earth when a painful whack smacked him in the shins. His face contorted slightly, and peered down. 

"Know your place, Piper." Rumpel hissed. "I understand from a report that you lost two vital ogres in the process of capturing them. I should roll out a punishment for you, but,"

What, no punishment? Has he gone mad? Impossible, there has to be a catch. The musician braced himself for what came next, but the words that uttered from the shorter man’s lips caught him off-guard.

For a fleeting moment, his short-tempered boss glanced away with a similar sorrow glowing in his emerald eyes. "What happened on the battlefield wasn't your fault." Piper slacked his jaw, eyes widening at the sight before him. It was from that moment when he was convinced that Violet played a major role in not only the witches but within Rumpelstiltskin’s life too. “You have already received a beating, so don’t slouch your back out.” Rumpel has turned back to his usual poise and paced around. 

Piper stood still for a few seconds. Why was there kindness being present here? He was so used to the true colors of Rumpelstiltskin for years He snapped up his mouth back up and lifted his flute to his lips. “Sir, about Violet—”

The emerald eyed one raised his hand, silencing the man in the progress. “Yes, yes, I have already ordered a search party for her. It may take a while since it is quite dark outside. The witches have their limits, too. So, you need to be patient.” He wrapped his arms around his back, stared Piper in the eyes, and gave him a pointed look. “If I or any of my women catch you on the verge of rescuing her, surely, you will be given a severe punishment of going against my word. Am I clear?” Piper nodded, “Dismissed.”  
**Artie**  
Without the ogre portion of the resistance and Fiona not leading the troupes back to base was already difficult enough. The wounded weren't much help as they slowed the parade of dejected soldiers stomping heavy feet over hundred meters of sand, mud, and water, in order to get back home safely. 

Artie didn't know who he was angry at the most, the fact that the resistance got their ass whooped by that damned woman who had the forbidden magical ability to revive herself; the empire sure had a lot of tricks up their sleeves to pull a stunt like that, or maybe it was the ogres who failed to gather the proper intel for the night's ambush. Well, he shouldn't blame everyone else for the calamity that befell them prior. It wasn't right, and he definitely wasn't in the right mind to be pointing fingers when Fiona was probably in the hands of the empire. 

Sir Lancelot wasn't trying to be a bother, he only wanted to be of service. It didn't help when Artie lashed out onto the teen after he was carried by a boy who was a year older than him away from danger. "Don't touch me! I don't need your sympathy." Artie demanded, he squirmed free, fuming.

"If this is your way of a 'thank you' then you better find another choice of words. I couldn't leave another companion out there." He got real close and pointed in Artie’s face. "Besides, don't go blaming others over your screwup."

Lancelot examined him closely, his shoulders heaved heavily before sagging in defeat, he still kept that same antipathy look carved into his marred face. Artie left the older boy behind and found Charming, studying him from afar, slumped against a cart full of broken weapons. Not commenting on the scene prior, Charming led away to the head of the march with Artie in tow.

Charming ruffled the younger boy shaggy hair, who ripped away from the unnecessary contact. "Don't beat yourself up. We may have lost this fight, but there will be other times." Artie patted down his hair and stole a glance at the clean-cut man trudging along. Believe it or not, Prince Charming was second in command and Arthur was third, it was just that admitting his royal blood to the fairytale part would be irrelevant because of the war and that he didn’t see himself as a leader.

Finally, everyone made it back home either sufficiently exhausted or indubitably disappointed. No one exchanged a single word but stoic expressions and their movements were sluggish. Artie headed straight to the infirmary where Charming spoke amongst a crowd of friends. The corner of his lips curled up weakly at then gawking at the gash in his shoulder, the wound was unbearably arduous. “I promise you all, I am fine. If I have to lose this arm, it doesn’t mean I’m disabled for war.” His laugh was cut short when he came in contact with rubbing alcohol. 

“Would your charms be lost if you didn’t have your left arm?” Artie smirked. He handed the nurse the next tool required to sew in the gaping gap of tissues.

“Life is short. Make every hair flip count.”

Charming browsed in amusement as Artie sarcastically raked his fingers through his dirty blond locks, adding a wink and biting his lip slightly. The two split out into grins, “Come on, I’ll be done soon. We’ll meet up in the war room.” the younger boy nodded and ducked outside to find Sir Lancelot leaning against the tent outside the door of the infirmary, while he picked at his defective daggers. It didn’t help the stink eye he gave him and stormed off. 

Artie passed by the Sirens who examined each other of their curses by the campfire. If only they didn’t use so much of their powers, their lives were limited. He met up with Lancelot along with Charming with his arm in a sling. “The next plan at hand is rescuing Fiona.” The blond-haired explained, the wooden figures from the previous operation were removed. He pointed to the stream painted on the map of Far Far Away where everyone last saw the cart before it disappeared into the dark. 

“What about that guy, Scot was it?” Lancelot chimed in.

“His name is Shrek.” Artie corrected, deep down he didn’t know why he cared.

Charming continued. “It’d be best to go after Fiona, she is, after all, our first priority. Shrek can handle himself, besides, Donkey and Puss is with him. He has plenty of entertainment.” 

It was then that something stirred the campgrounds, and an immediate buzz overcame the large crowd that gathered around a peculiar finding near the banks of the river. All three of them glanced at each other before heading out to find what the ruckus was about. Artie dodged through the mass where some leftover debris were easily acknowledged, while a human lump had him seething with venom. 

 

**Violet**

Darkness.

Surrounding her was a complete world of an endless abyss. Her body floated about, aimlessly through the density of this void to what she couldn’t define. This place had no temperature of any frigid mountain tops or boiling summer days of a city. A piercing pain struck her side as a reminder of the events before. So, she died. But was that really it? What happened in the sequence after she was stabbed? At first, she felt the injury spreading fast and her brain was rushing to think that the body was in grave danger if not seek proper attention. But the pain dissolved quickly as it came, and she was asleep. 

It was the instance in which you leave your body while you slept. Except, this time, Violet watched in dismay as her person took control. Killing. Every. Single. Fighter. It didn’t matter whose side anyone was on. instantaneous, a very disturbing curve in her person’s lips burned an image in her mind along with a murderous glare. 

Eyes shut fast, she murmured basically to herself “Who is that persona?” To who could hear her in the empty space, she couldn’t deny that she was a bit terrified of being alone. She lulled her lethargic self-up, if that was even possible, and peeled open her lids. Violet drifted nonchalantly for a while when she was greeted by a sliver of light. It paned tall and wide flashing a cool reflection of herself, but something about the picture wasn’t quite right. 

Was that really her? Were those violet hues flashing back the same? The hairstyle was ever so slightly shorter, and upon that pale skin of the other her was marred with scars so deep and unnerving – she hardly recognized the figure in the mirror. 

“So, this is who I become to. Tell me, and be honest, did you enjoy the show?” The Other Violet wondered. She tucked her knees to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around as if she was the only one who accepted her hugs; her eyes observing her other self with low-lidded eyes.

A fragment of a memory shimmered into Violet’s mind, and she inhaled a sharp breath as her body was used to perform drastic damage against ogres and witches. Each witch she had as a piece of family from many years ago were all demolished with their bodies withering in agony. Their skins melting away by the sheer power of water and ice. She balled her fists and shook her head. “How could you do this? Who are you!”

“Need I explain? Well, I could go on in detail the origin of your powers, but I’m afraid we don’t have much time.” A wave of exhaustion conquered Violet, forcing her eyelids to fall. “We should definitely have a chat again.” The glass of the mirror cracked into thousands of spiderwebs and fracturing her image until it faded back into the dark.

She woke up in chains, hung upside down above a fire pit, and with a pair of thousands of eyes scrutinizing her and weapons aimed for her. The pressure of blood rushing to her head didn’t help her think. Two blobs came into view: Charming and Artie, as both of them stared back at her. “Artie,” she murmured.

“His name is Arthur,” snarled Charming. “Who the fuck are you?”

Violet’s eyes shot wide open, directing all of her focus on the two men. “Prince Charming?” A flashback emerged in her mind, remembering the moment she and Piper encountered the Fairy Godmother in her isolated bubble. She lamented on the fact she erased her son’s memories of her existence and replaced them with the resolve on winning the war. 

At once, she was stabbed in the side with the tip of Charming’s sword. “Silence, demon. Where is Fiona?” 

She shook her head, “I don’t know, really, I don’t. I’m sorry.” An outcry of voices erupted around her, calling her a liar. 

“How can we trust you that you’re not lying?” Violet’s lips protruded, eyes glowing somber. 

“Kill her,” someone shouted.

“No, torture her like how she did to my friend!” another shrieked.

Charming pinched the bridge of his nose and demanded for silence. Artie fixated on her, most particular her eyes. For some reason, they didn’t glimmer the way they did before. While everyone was begging for her death, Artie thrust his shoulder into her body, swinging her hard and struck the rope that held her. She face-planted the dirt with a groan. Lancelot swung Artie around by the shoulders.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he screamed.

Violet rolled over and noticed Artie ignoring him. He snatched her by the collar of her clothes hoisting her to his eye level. The intensity he gave her made her coil within the embrace of her chains. “Look at me,” he commanded, and when she didn’t comply, he dropped his sword and struck her hard on the cheek. Her eyes swelled up with tears, as she bit back a sob. “Look at me!” finally she abided and gazed up into his green eyes.

He stared intently, and after a few solid minutes, he released her, shoving her to the ground and turned around to face the crowd waiting in anticipation. 

“Mind explaining?” Charming commented. He kept a close eye on the woman sprawled on the floor. 

“It’s not her.” 

“Excuse me?” Lancelot butted in. His eyes flickered between Artie and the woman. “What do you mean it’s not her? Don’t you recall when she nearly killed our friends?”

Artie knelt down and undid the chains wrapping around her, earning him disagreement among the crowd. He didn’t offer his hand to help her stand up, but he did have the courtesy in trusting her getting up on her own. “My memory is pristine, however, the one on the battlefield was someone different.” Before Charming could stop him, Lancelot marched up to Artie grabbing him by the collar and barked.

“You better have a fucking good reason for betraying us.”

“Calm down,” Artie replied indifferently. He eyed the other teen equally. “Look into her eyes and tell me if she is a threat to us.”

“Bullshit!” Lancelot snarled. He glimpsed at Charming as he stepped towards her and peered straight at her. Violet didn’t need another licking and looked up at him. She couldn’t read his blank expression, most noticeably his eyes. He glanced over his shoulder at Artie and nodded.

“She may not pose a threat to us, however that doesn’t mean she is let go.” He faced her once more. “You are under probation until further notice. If you do anything rash, we won’t hesitate to kill on sight. Am I clear?”

Violet bowed her head. He signaled someone and they rushed over with a pair of handcuffs before scurrying off. He motioned her hands to him and when she did, he locked them right in front of her eyes. 

“Thank you, Charming.” She smiled weakly but rescinded her thoughts.

“You are to call me Commander or Sir. You don’t have the authority to call me by that name.” she muttered an apology. Charming pointed to Artie who quieted everyone. “He is Arthur, not Artie.” 

“Understood.”

He nodded. “Good.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comment if you want. I do not own Shrek or the characters. I only own my OC and this story.


End file.
